


Joyless

by WHFJoyless



Category: We Happy Few (Video Game)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:27:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29100990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WHFJoyless/pseuds/WHFJoyless
Summary: The life of your every day Wellette becomes a lot more complicated when she suddenly finds herself off Joy.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Day 1 - Wakey, Wakey

Day 1

_And it's another fabulous day in Wellington Wells. The sun is up and the weather is overcast and only slightly rainy, with occasional patches of sunshine. Wakey-wakey, everyone!_

Katherine's deep and dreamless sleep came to an abrupt stop at the sound of Uncle Jack's voice. With his _Good Morning_ serenade shattering the serenity of sleep, Katherine forced her eyes open and immediately felt the usual insufferable headache. Out of habit, she reached out for the bottle that sat on the table beside her bed.

“Pass me one of those, would you?” croaked the voice from beside her. No doubt, Katherine's husband was also feeling the normal headache from lack of Joy. Without hesitation, she handed him the bottle and the man—fully clothed—sat up, adjusted his glasses, and opened the bottle. “Odd,” he murmured.

Odd was not a word normally heard this early in the morning.

Katherine quickly sat up and looked down at the singular off-white pill sitting in her husband's palm. “Take it,” the words came out of her mouth before selfishness could settle in. What would possibly possess her to say such a thing? With zero concern for his wife, the man ecstatically popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed it with an audible gulp. The mask-enforced-smile on his face broadened a little more and his pupils became tiny dots. He hopped out of bed with energy that instantly annoyed her and with too cheerful of a tone, he told her, “Better get down to a Joy Booth as soon as you're able to. Don't want anyone thinking you're a Downer!”

Katherine smiled back at him just as animatedly. “Don't worry, dear! I'm sure there's Joy in the house somewhere and I'll be sure to top us off first thing! The usual vanilla?”

“The usual!” he beamed as he strutted out of the room.

Katherine continued sitting on the bed. Her neck felt tight and the buzzing in her head made it hard to think but even so, she knew that there wasn't a single pill of Joy in the house. Why, she had been a good hostess last night and offered some of their own supply to their guests as an after dinner delight! The memories from last night's loud and liquor-heavy-dinner party made her stomach rumble and her head throb. She applied pressure to her temples and took several calming breaths. She would have to collect the empty bottles around the house and fill them to the brim! That way, this sort of situation would _never_ happen again!

“Right then...off we go,” she said in a poor attempt at motivating herself to get up. After another session of focused breathing to ease her dizziness, Katherine finally placed her feet onto the floor. The obnoxious sound of high heels against wood made her look down in confusion. Why were her shoes so loud? ...Why were her shoes on in the first place? _Odd_.

“Have a cup of tea, dear,” her husband's voice startled her. “You look dreadful!” He began rummaging through their closet and pulled out an outfit that was nearly identical to the one he was wearing. That, too, suddenly seemed odd. Back when they first met, didn't he loathe vests? Didn't he— _that's right_! There's Joy in the water!

Katherine smiled adoringly as she watched her husband change into his clothes and said, “I'll get right on it!” The shrillness of her voice made her head hurt even more. Did she always sound so irritating?!

“Off to work! Catch ya later!” And without so much as another glance, her husband walked out of the room yet again.

Initially, she was unaware that she was sitting perfectly still, waiting for the sound of the front door to open and close. It was only as the door slammed shut that Katherine realized how important it was for him to leave before she did anything...but _why_ was it so important? The answer, though faint, lingered in the back of her mind. Choosing to ignore such a preposterous thought, Katherine crawled across the bed and for the first time in who knows how long, she shut off the radio. The headache thanked her quite ungratefully by sending a way of nausea to her stomach. With a whimper, she decided to freshen up before her day truly began.

Katherine unbuckled her polished shoes and slipped them off, giving her toes a wiggle. She continued disrobing by peeling off her knee-high stockings, sighing in relief as she flung them to the side of the room. It was as if she could actually breathe now, not that stocking-indented calves had anything to do with breathing. With her first genuine smile of the day, Katherine stood up and made her way to the bathroom, which was where she unknowingly got the first good look of herself in nearly a decade.

The mask she wore—though clean and of the most pristine whites—had grime caked around the edges of the eye holes and the faintest bit at the corners of the mouth. “ _Goodness_ ,” she hissed, ripping the thing off. She flipped it over in her hands to get a better look at the grime but it wasn't there. For a small and silent moment, Katherine stared at the mask only to realize that the grime must have been on her skin! She looked up at her reflection and gasped, not because of the filth that discolored her skin, but because she.... She didn't recognize the woman staring back at her!

The finest of lines adorned the corners of her eyes and a slightly more noticeable one streaked across her forehead. Her skin looked thin and had an odd sort of discoloration to it. With a closer inspection of her face, Katherine focused on the grim around her eyes. It appeared to be composed of layers upon layers of makeup that sort of melded into one. The lack of Joy was making her sweat, which made her hair clump together in an odd way and the layers of make up slightly melt, like a wax figurine. Trembling, she turned the hot water handle and stumbled over to the bathtub, turning the handles to fill it with water.

It felt like hours had passed as she cleaned her face, then washed her body and hair. The fact that the bath water turned a darker color after she was done bathing churned her stomach in the worst of ways, but at least could take _joy_ in feeling clean. The headache wasn't so bad anymore but her stomach was still actively complaining, forcing itself to become the focus of her discomfort. Feeling that old but familiar sensation of sick bubbling away was enough motivation for Katherine to abandon her make up, her stylish hairdo, and most importantly: her mask. She didn't even trade her bathrobe for proper clothing, which seemed downright sacrilegious! But! Katherine was hungry and feeling sick all at once and _something_ had to be done! Were there leftovers from the night before? What had she cooked, anyway? A memory flashed from the previous night's events, reminding her that...she and her guests never got around to eating anything.

Katherine made her way downstairs and to the kitchen where she began throwing open cupboard doors in an attempt to find anything that would soothe her nausea. There were molded and rotten vegetables here and there that made her feel even more queasy. The fridge was no better, being host to rotten meat and something that faintly resembled white mud and whiskey. Seeing the sourdough starter reminded her that Oswald had brought some flour home and that's why she had her neighbors over. “But we didn't eat anything...” she told herself as she closed the fridge door and took a few steps over to the oven.

She opened the oven door to reveal a loaf of sourdough just sitting there, waiting to be eaten. Why did alcohol and Joy have such bad reactions when taken together? She would probably feel a lot better if she had eaten last night. Then again, maybe she would feel better if she just had some Joy. It was hard to ignore the craving she felt for Joy. She longed to feel the capsule on her tongue, to experience explosion of vanilla just before her world became better and brighter. Her stomach audibly groaned, reminding her that if she hurried up to eat, she'd be able to get to a Joy Booth sooner.

Without bothering to grab a knife, Katherine tore at the loaf with her teeth and fingers, making a right mess of her yellow bathrobe. The bread was over baked, too dense, and far too crumbly, but as soon as she swallowed the first mouthful, her stomach seemed to thank her. It was the soothing and calming sensation of finally feeling a little better that made her think clearly.

She sliced off the edge of the loaf that she had been gnawing on and took it to the living room, where she plopped down on one of her sofas. Though the headache was back at the front of her focus, Katherine continued eating her slice of bread while looking around at the house. It almost seemed foreign to her. Sure, she knew it was her home but when was the last time she had really taken a look at it? “Everything is dusty,” she murmured, realizing that the kitchen was probably beyond filthy and when was the last time she shopped for groceries? Was it a week ago or more? It's not that she couldn't remember, it's that her memory seemed so fuzzy and out of chronological order that she couldn't make sense of anything.

With a glance at the clock on the wall and coming to the conclusion that she still had plenty of time to get the Joy bottles refilled, Katherine decided to get on with her day. First, she went upstairs and slipped on a white and pink polka-dotted dress with a fresh pair of knee-high stockings and a pair of strapless high heeled shoes that were in a box at the bottom of her closet. She reapplied her makeup, styled her hair, and after a thorough cleaning, she fitted her mask to her face.

From there, Katherine returned to the kitchen and tossed out all of the rotten food, made a small list of things she needed to do while out and about, tended to her sourdough starter, and started on making another loaf of bread—one that wouldn't be over baked or forgotten about. It was as she was getting ready to leave the house that she realized that not only was her headache gone, but she actually felt... _good._ It was like a fog had been lifted from her brain! This alone was enough to make her smile as she grabbed her purse.

“Today will be a good day!” she told herself as she stepped out of her house with a smile, eager to be greeted by the beautiful sight of Maidenholm kissed by the colorful midday light.


	2. Wakey, Wakey pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katherine continues living through what feels like the longest day ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, thanks for coming back :) It may take the ball a little while to get rolling, but I promise it'll be fun once it does.

The midday light, the bright colors, even the fucking rainbows weren't anywhere to be found! Katherine looked up and down the road, spotting many of her neighbors and fellow townspeople, but all of them were _completely unaware_ of the _filth_ and _grime_ and _awfulness_ all around them! An odd and terrible sensation began creeping up her spine, like thousands of spiders marching toward her brain. She turned the doorknob of her front door and without even turning around, she stepped backwards into her house and slammed the door.

Trembling and desperately trying to make sense of the world outside of her home, Katherine stumbled backwards until she fell onto the stairs behind her. It was there that she came to the simplest and most obvious conclusion: she was having a nightmare! Or maybe she was still having a bad reaction to mixing alcohol and Joy! That had to be it! Everything she was going through was just a _bad_ reaction. There just wasn't a way that the street outside of her home could change so much in one night. It just wasn't possible! Unless...maybe it was always like that? Maybe.... Did Joy really change how everyone viewed their surroundings?

She waited for the relief to wash over her, to ease the anxiety that she felt...but it never came. Sitting there on the third tread of the stairs, Katherine became aware of what was happening to her. The truth illuminated her brain as though someone had simply flipped a switch. “I can't be,” she whispered softly. She had been in bed by ten last night and hadn't taken her usual Joy first thing in the morning. It was now after noon, meaning she was well over twelve hours without having Joy. “No one becomes a _Downer_ that quickly,” she told herself.

Katherine slowly stood up and made her way over to the corner of the living room where a decorative mirror hung on the wall. Downers are terrible people that didn't want to be a part of society! They want to ruin everyone's happiness and disrupt the utopia that is Wellington Wells! “I'm _not_ a Downer! I _want_ to be a part of this society!” She stormed back to the door and grabbed her purse from the floor. “If anyone becomes suspicious of me, I'll just tell them I'm on my way to get groceries and Joy. Groceries. Joy. That's all I'm doing. Happiness _is_ a choice!”

With her hand on the doorknob, Katherine froze. What would happen to Oswald if she were to be discovered and... _handled_? She bit her lower lip, understanding that their safety relied entirely on her right now. Oswald would come home after a long and important day of delivering mail to the good people of Hamlyn Village and expect there to be delightful little pills waiting for him. He didn't deserve to go off Joy just because she was careless. Would anyone...know?

Katherine stood a little straighter, smiled a little broader, and with the declaration of, “For Oswald!” she stepped outside again. Everyone around her looked so relaxed and without a single worry. If she didn't want to be discovered, she would need to be a great actress. But then what?

_Don't think about it_ , she told herself. _Focus on what you're supposed to be doing. Joy. Groceries_.

Not once did anyone stop her as she walked down the street in a calm and collected manner. No one made eye-contact with her as she glanced at them and no one bothered her as she stood in line at the nearest Joy Booth. Someone walked into the booth, someone walked out, and she took a step forward. Though it was an easy pattern to follow, Katherine couldn't help but feel as though there were eyes everywhere, judging her for every breath she took, bringing attention to her because they knew she wasn't happy! They knew she was a Downer! Was she sweating? Downer! Was she visibly nervous?! DOWNER! YOU'RE A DOWNER AND THEY KNOW! ALL OF THEM KNOW!

The Joy Booth's door popped open and an absolutely cheerful man walked out, giving her a little bump on the way out. Katherine didn't hesitate as she walked into the booth and shut the door behind her. From her purse, she retrieved one of her four black bottles and opened it. She placed it beneath the dispenser and turned the knob several times until there was a handful of off-white pills inside but was quickly reminded, “You're not the only one needing a fix!” The impatient stranger banged on the door, causing Katherine to nearly spill the Joy as she frantically packed it away.

She smiled through her irritation as she opened the booth and called out, “Lovely day for it!” If she wanted a proper refill, she would need to go to the Apothecary. With a glance at the silver watch on her left wrist, Katherine frowned. It wasn't keeping track of time, but with a quick glance to the sky and enough daylight, she decided to head east toward Dogberry Park. Just diagonally across from the park was the smaller shop that Mr. Adams had set up. He ran it three days a week while his wife, Fiona, worked his original location. As she walked along the colorful road, Katherine searched through her memories. Why had he opened a second location? Obviously it would have been good for business but it's not like it was ever all that busy inside.

_That's right!_

Mr. Adams had that younger girl working for him while he expanded his business...didn't she live above the second location? Or...did she move out? Katherine continued thinking about such silliness that it didn't seem to take long for her to arrive at her destination. Unlike the St. George's Holm Apothecary, this building looked old and abandoned. Instead of being covered with bright lights and neon signs, it had a few posters in the window, which advertised the different flavors of Joy, including the new and exciting Strawberry Joy! At the very corner of the grand window, Katherine spotted a sign with the word, “Open,” painted in a sloppy style that reminded her of Stewart's assistant.

“Lovely day for it!” she called out again as she walked into the store; a bell announced her arrival.

Stewart Adams quickly stood from a chair he had been sitting in and rushed behind what appeared to be a small bar. The floor creaked beneath their steps and the entire room smelled faintly of smoke. It was dimly lit and judging by the amount of stacked up tables lining the walls, Katherine thought that maybe this was once a bar. Didn't Oswald come here _with_ Stewart? “Hello, Mrs. Pritchard! What's your fancy?”

“A Joy refill. Vanilla, if you have it.” Since bottles of Joy could both bought and refilled entirely at an Apothecary, one did not always have the option of selecting a flavor. More often than not, Mr. Adams would run out of one flavor by the end of the week and be stocked again over the weekend. “I managed to get a handful of Joy into this bottle before being rushed out of the booth nearby,” she murmured as she placed her bottles onto the counter.

“Oh, you should have come to me directly! I'm having a sale today, half off of Vanilla and Chocolate if you buy a bottle of Strawberry!” Mr. Adams collected the bottles from the counter and made his way over to three barrels. The poor man nearly disappeared as he leaned over into the barrel and began filling her bottles. “How's Oswald?” he called out.

“J-just great!” The shrill tone in her voice reflected how off-guard she was by his question. Stewart _never_ did any shopping, not even for Joy. “And Fiona?”

“Oh, she's...she's doing better!” Better? Was she not doing well before? Katherine thought it was best if she didn't ask. In fact, it was so hard to keep her thoughts clear that she just stood there, waiting for her Joy to be filled. “Think you'd like to try a bottle of Strawberry?” he asked as he pushed the filled bottles toward her.

“Oh, no. Not today, but thank you anyway.” The concerned look on his face made her second guess her response. Should she have accepted?

Mr. Adams then chuckled. “I have two types of customers: one that wants to try new things and the other that doesn't dare try anything new.” He cleared his throat and leaned over the wooden bar, “I'll make a bargain with you. I'll give you a free bottle of Strawberry Joy in exchange for...a favor.”

Katherine walked closer to the bar and leaned a little ways in. “What...kind of favor?”

“Do you still bake?” the question alone almost made Katherine laugh. What kind of question was that? She answered him with a simple nod and in his lowered voice, he told her, “As it so happens, a friend of mine dropped off some currants. Don't ask me how she got them. Fiona isn't much of a baker, nor is she much of a fan of this friend of mine, but if you know how to use them...?”

Despite the mask digging into her face and forcing her to smile, Katherine truly smiled at the chemist. “I would be delighted to take those currants right off of your hands.”

“Great!” he pulled a black bottle with a red lid from his apron's pocket and placed it in her hand. “I'll just be a moment!” And with that said, Mr. Adams made his way around the bar and through some swinging doors. As she waited, she placed the other bottles with cream colored lids into her purse and the bell behind her chimed, announcing another customer. He tilted his hat at her, but otherwise patiently waited to be served. When Mr. Adams returned, he was carrying a fairly large sack of currants with him. “Be with you in a moment,” he told the new customer while approaching her. “Here.” Katherine grabbed the large burlap sack with both arms, gently cradling it as if it were a newborn. She extended her hand out to Mr. Adams but found herself pulled into an awkward hug. “Give my love to Oswald!” And with that said, he gently guided her to the door.

As Katherine took a step off of the small stoop, she suddenly remembered that every Friday Night, Oswald and Stewart could be found together playing cards or discussing other sports with their small group of friends. It didn't feel like it was that long ago that Oswald and Stewart got into a very heated argument over one or the other cheating in a card game. She couldn't really remember what happened after that.

Brushing off the hazy memory, Katherine began making her way to the local market when a thought occurred. Why did anyone have to pay for new bottles of Joy if Joy was _free_? It was free from the booths and certainly free in the water supply. Whatever the reason was, she'd have to ponder it some other time as a heat began to fill her belly. She would need to get to the store quickly and get home even quicker.

The nearby market wasn't busy when she arrived. The shelves weren't exactly full but for the most part, she bought everything she needed: flour, tea, sugar, V Meat, and a few tins of grapefruit juice, because why not? Everything was packed very awkwardly into paper bags and carrying the two with the burlap sack of berries and her purse seemed nearly impossible. With everything placed on a nearby bench, Katherine stared down at her belongings and wondered what she should do. She tried putting her purse on her shoulder and tried tucking the two bags into one arm, but the contents of the bag threatened to tear at the brown paper. She then tried the same tactic, but with the berries tucked into her left arm, but that left a pretty horrendous stain on her dress.

“ _Bugger_ ,” she whispered out loud, examining the stain. She didn't want anymore stains and she surely didn't want to ruin anymore berries.

“May I _help_ you?”

Katherine looked over her shoulder into a pair of very blue, very intense eyes. The heat in her stomach suddenly exploded, sending a small wave of sick up her throat that she quickly swallowed down. _Answer him before he becomes suspicious!_ “That would be most appreciated.” Her breath was airy and soft, no doubt from the anxiety coursing through her body like skittering ants. The Constable handed her the purse and a single brown bag while he grabbed up the other and grabbed the sack of currants with his free hand. Oh, to have coordination and strength. “Lead the way, ma'am!”

Keeping at a regular and Joy-induced pace was difficult when one feels as though everything they're doing is being noticed by everyone, especially those that purposely seek one out for being a Downer. The walk home felt as though it took forever and the heat in her stomach continued to bubble dangerously, reminding her that she was not suitable for this kind of stress! She was hyper-aware of the sweat dripping between her mask and down her neck. If she didn't get home soon, then her kind escort would certainly discover her secret. She couldn't help but pick up the pace a bit as she neared her destination; her only true haven.

Katherine had never been so happy approaching the front of her house. “Thank you, Constable!” she told him, turning her back to the door. “I wouldn't have made it home if it weren't for you.” Her heart began to race as she stared into his eyes. She had never really noticed how sinister the constables appeared with their bizarre smiles and nearly unblinking eyes.

“Let's get your things inside. We wouldn't want you dropping everything, now would we?”

_Don't show him your fear!_ Katherine didn't hesitate as she opened the door of her house and lead him through the living room and into the kitchen. She placed the bag and her purse onto the counter and turned to the constable, eager to accept her belongings and get him out of her home. “Thank you so very much, Constable,” she said as she grabbed the second paper bag from him. “I swear, sometimes I forget I actually need my arms!”

The constable let out a gruff laugh and told her, “That's what we're here for: helping out our lovely citizens and keeping our streets safe from Downers!” How incredibly awkward! “What do you have here anyway?” He held the bag of currants with two hands and inspected the spot where the berries bled through.

“Currants...for a pie. And careful! Don't want them staining your gloves. I wasn't so fortunate,” she pointed to the stain on her dress and practically snatched the bag from him.

“Oh! I haven't had anything as decadent as pie in...well, I can't remember!” Unexpectedly, the constable began looking through her bags, “Flour, sugar...you've got everything! That's exciting!”

Katherine felt like she was watching a very overgrown child looking for some candy. “Constable?” It didn't matter that he was kind and walked her to her home or that he was almost childlike with his excitement...he was _still_ terrifying. “I have plenty of currants here...would you like it if I brought a pie to you? As a 'thank you' for the help?”

“You would do that?” the disbelief in his voice solidified her idiotic decision, but before she could say anything else, “The name's Collinson, ma'am! I'll be working in the back at the Constabulary tomorrow!”

“Well, Constable Collinson, I'll see you tomorrow and I hope I don't disappoint you.”

Constable Collinson gave the bag of currants a gentle pat. “Right then. Back to the streets for me and I'll see you bunch tomorrow.” And with an awkward turn, the constable walked through her living room, gave her a little wave, and shut the door behind him.

Maybe it was the stress of the day, the oncoming stress of tomorrow, or maybe it was the lack of Joy, but Katherine's stomach could no longer hold its contents. She raced through the house, up the stairs and into the bathroom, all while holding waves of sick in her mouth. She yanked off her mask and dove for the toilet, allowing her to expel said contents. After the worst of it seemed over, Katherine whimpered and rested her head against the cool toilet seat, refusing to think about how many bottoms sat on this particular spot. In fact, she just remembered how much she hated this house; how she hated that Oswald bought it without consulting her.

What decent house didn't have a toilet downstairs? And when would this sick sensation pass? With the return of the pounding headache, the intensified sweating, and the overall state that she was in, Katherine flushed the toilet and crawled over to the bathtub with the full intention of taking another. She turned the valves and slowly stood up, peeling off her clothes one item at a time. But it was then, as she stood there naked and watching the water glisten with the faintest hint of pink that she realized something she had always known...there's Joy in the water.

The bath, cleaning her face, and brushing her teeth...all of it must have gotten the tiniest bits of Joy into her system to make her feel just a bit better; just a bit more like herself on Joy. But this? This downright awful feeling...this was Joyless. Tears sprang to her eyes as she returned to the toilet and was sick again. What was the point of _not_ taking Joy? What purpose did it serve? Why was she going out of her way to avoid it if _this_ was how she felt without it?

What ever happened to her parents? Her sister?

Why did that bobby help her?

What was he looking for exactly? Did he know?

Why was Fiona Adams “doing better?” Was she off her Joy?

Joy was supposed to get rid of unpleasant memories, not the majority of them!

She didn't want to live in a world where she was in a constant state of forgetfulness and the things she did remember were foggy. That wasn't happiness. That was living each day for each little capsule of Joy. And that was no way to live at all! This journey into sobriety would not be an easy one in the slightest, but if it was the way she was going to live, then she would have to accept every challenge that would present itself. She didn't know if she could pull it off or fool her own husband, but she was going to try! She would need to do her best at figuring out what the world was like outside of their safety net, out in the Garden...just in case. And after that? She'd have to find a way to get Oswald and herself out of Wellington Wells for good.


	3. A Lackluster Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty's first Joyless day ends in disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, these first three chapters were chapter one, but I split it up! So...this is a bit short because it wrapped up the first chapter.
> 
> * Adult Content

Oswald had arrived home precisely at 5:30 PM. He acknowledged Katherine with an empty smile, hung his hat on the coat rack, and proceeded to march through the living room and kitchen three entire times. Katherine was so astonished that all she could was sit on the sofa and watch. Finally, after far too long of doing this, Oswald sat on the chair beside the stairs, waved at her, and began reading from a day old paper.

“That's a day old paper,” she told him from across the room.

With his forefingers, Oswald bent the paper down and asked, “What was that, dear?”

“The paper. It's a day old.”

A sort of puzzled look came over him as he closed the paper and checked the date. “Well...would you look at that! You're right! And you could see that from all the way over there! Amazing. Amazing.” What was amazing was that he opened the paper and continued reading it. Katherine refrained from sighing and looked down at the small watch on her wrist. At first, she was annoyed that it no longer kept track of time, but then she smiled, allowing a memory to play through her mind.

“ _Now, I know this isn't a ring...but if you'll have me as your husband, I promise you that I will work hard every single day of my life to make you happy and as soon as I can, I'll get you a real ring. So, what do you say? Will you be my wife?”_

 _“I don't need you to work hard every day of your life to make me happy,”_ she had told him.

Oswald scoffed and gave her a sheepish grin, “ _That doesn't answer my question, Kitty._ ”

To family and close friends, Katherine was always called Kitty. When did that stop? Was it when she had gotten married? Or did she forego the nickname when she started taking Joy? Katherine's memories were far too foggy for her to remember the exact reason and so she returned her focus to her husband.

Oswald had been a charming man in his younger years. He was so stylish and confident that she often felt insignificant beside him. He had given up his future in the Parade District to be with her. What was it that they kept calling him? _Debonair!_ That memory made her remember the first time they had seen each other. She had been shopping in the Parade District with her friends when they spotted a popular up and coming model. Katherine didn't pay attention to fashion or models and so she didn't know anything about him. When she had turned to take a look at the model her friends were so excited about, Katherine found herself locked in his gaze. It was with such grace and bravado that Oswald had walked over to her and introduced himself. It was love at first sight.

“Ozzy?”

Oswald folded the paper down again and suddenly, it was hard to think of him as anything other than a skinny postman. “Yes, dear?”

“Think you'd like to spend some time together?”

“Aren't we together now?”

Katherine smiled and leaned back against the couch, crossing one leg over the other. “That's not what I mean.” After a moment of Oswald staring at her blankly, she sighed irritably and stood up. “I meant _shag_ , Oswald! Do you want to shag?!”

“Oh!” Oswald's newspaper fell to the floor as he stood up quickly. “I'd...I'd love to! That sounds like a jolly good time.”

Katherine's heart fluttered and her cheeks felt warm. She quickly crossed the living room but came to such a quick stop that she almost tripped over nothing. Oswald had grabbed the newspaper from the floor and carefully folded it, tucking it beneath his arm. “Planning to read the paper during or after?”

“What's that?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she walked over to him, snatched the newspaper from him and tossed it on the chair behind him. With his hand in hers, she directed him upstairs to their bedroom and began disrobing, starting with her mask. Oswald was slow to join her, removing his glasses and placing them just so on his nightstand beside the radio. He removed his vest and insisted on hanging it to prevent wrinkles. Katherine, on the other hand, was now completely naked and waiting in bed. She watched him slowly unbutton his shirt and hang it, followed by removing his pants and folding them over a hanger. “Think you could speed it along?”

He turned to face her and to her astonishment, a look other than happy crossed his face. She tried her hardest not to giggle at his surprised expression or the way he suddenly hurried to remove the rest of his clothing. Katherine smiled at her husband as he walked over, but several things occurred to her at once: he had yet to remove his mask, he was skinnier than she had _ever_ seen him, and he immediately popped a Joy. “Ozzie, darling...aren't you going to remove your mask?”

That—she was convinced—was something he didn't hear. Oswald sort of flopped onto her; his skin felt tacky and he didn't particularly smell great. While body odor and licorice didn't mix well, she was willing to ignore it for a moment of intimacy. Maybe it was the excitement or maybe it was the Joy, but Oswald seemed to have very little idea of what was going on, despite the fact that he was clearly enjoying himself. She tried directing him, tried telling him that they weren't actually doing anything, but it was of no use. He rocked and flopped around like a fish out of water and far sooner than she expected, he let out a high pitched whimper. He rolled onto the bed beside her and as he attempted to catch his breath, he told her, “That was phenomenal! And done just in time for Uncle Jack!”

Drowning somewhere in between horror and anger, Katherine quickly got out of bed and stormed over to the bedroom door. Maybe going off of Joy was a bad move. Oswald was happy. Oswald was pleased. He didn't feel crushed the way that she did. Her eyes were stinging and her throat felt tight. The bony man in the bed was no longer the man that she had married. “I'll...” she cleared her throat after her voice cracked, “I'll get you a washcloth.” A quick trip to the bathroom and Katherine couldn't keep herself from throwing a wet rag at him. Despite her irritation and sadness, she was quite surprised to see him actually clean himself while listening to Uncle Jack talk about something or other. And she, on the other hand, returned to the bathroom where she finally cleaned herself up. She didn't know if she would absorb any Joy just from touching the water but right now, she didn't exactly care. A little memory loss would be most welcome right about now.

Katherine opened the mirror above the sink and stared at the bottle of Vanilla Joy. She could take one pill and forget that this day ever happened! She could go back to ignorant bliss without a care or worry in the world! All of a sudden, she became very aware of the ticking of the clock that sat on the wall between her room and the bathroom. Uncle Jack's voice echoed all around her, from within her house and outside of it. Happiness is a choice. Happiness...is a choice. Heart pounding and stomach tight, Katherine reached out for the bottle of pills, but she couldn't bring herself to grab it. Happiness was never a choice if it was a law to live by.

The door of the mirror snapped shut and after a quick rinse off, Katherine returned to the room to find her husband fully dressed and laughing at something Uncle Jack said. He didn't acknowledge her as she dressed in comfortable clothing and placed her mask on the small table beside the bed. He didn't ask her where she was going or what she was doing as she walked out of the room and closed the door quietly. Instead of going to sleep, Katherine returned to her kitchen with the full intention of only eating the over baked bread from the night before, but the loaf that had been bulk rising was ready to be shaped and the currants were calling her name. Katherine decided to find her own form of joy in something that she had always loved: baking.


	4. The Constabulary

Katherine's consciousness flickered on as if someone had pulled the chain of a lamp. Her eyes did not open and her body did not move, yet she was fully aware of the world around her. Patient in her half-sleep state, she waited to hear Uncle Jack's voice come over the radio on Oswald's side of the bed.

_Wait!_

Make-up free eyelids opened to the sight of a dimly lit living room. There was still a faint hint of the previous night's baking wafting through the house. Slowly and achingly, Katherine forced herself into a sitting position on the couch, her bare feet landing on the filthy carpet. Had she moved in her sleep at all? Judging from the stiffness in her left shoulder and the discomfort in her hips, Katherine assumed she hadn't. Baking four pies and another loaf of bread had left her exhausted and instead of going to bed, she simply dropped herself onto the couch and fell into a much needed sleep.

“Wakey, wakey,” she yawned out as she stood up and stretching, sighing softly with relief as her back popped in several places. Without a care, Katherine made her way upstairs and smiled at the hallway clock. It was 10:30 in the morning and she couldn't be happier! As she gathered some clean clothes and her mask, Katherine couldn't help but wonder when she last slept in so late. She wondered what Oswald thought when he came downstairs and saw her. Did he even notice that she wasn't in bed with him when she woke up or that she was on the couch when he left this morning?

Though she'd never admit it aloud—and part of her felt guilty for just thinking it—Katherine didn't really care what Oswald thought. The man she lived with and was married to may as well be nothing more than a husk of the man he once was. In fact, there was this strange ache in her heart when she thought about her husband. It was the same sensation that one felt after losing a loved one: sickly, hollow, and heavy all at once.

Standing in the bathroom, another thought interrupted her current line of thinking: what would happen if she boiled the water? Would that remove the Joy? Boiling it would certainly make it less potent...right? With her clothes rearranged to be tucked under one arm, Katherine grabbed a towel and a washcloth and headed downstairs. She walked over to the nook where her dining table sat and set her clothes down, only to walk over to the sink and place her washcloth down beside it. From one of the lower cabinets, Katherine fished out a large pot and sat it under the tap in the sink.

As the pink tinted water slowly filled the pot, Katherine turned around to discover that of the loaf and a half of sourdough and pour pies that sat on the breakfast table, the older loaf was considerably smaller and one pie had a slice removed from it and a note was sitting beneath the dish! She walked over to inspect it and discovered her husband's writing. The word, “Smashing!” had been written on it with a small heart beneath it. Maybe her husband was still in there after all.

Feeling happy and smiling without the aid of an uncomfortable mask, Katherine made her way to each window and closed the curtains. She also made sure both the back and front doors of the house were locked, just in case someone decided to drop in unannounced. Once the pot had been filled halfway with water, Katherine set it to boil and only then did she sit down to have a bite to eat. The filling of the pie was divine; it was firm and not overly sweet. The crust, on the other hand, could have been a little flakier. Then again, flakiness could only be achieved with a fat of some sort and that was an ingredient she didn't have. When was the last time she had butter, margarine, or any sort of oil? She just couldn't remember.

Still, the pie wasn't bad and by the time she had finished her slice, the water in the pot was less pink that it had been but now it was too hot to bathe with. As she waited for the water to cool, Katherine did her best to remove anything in the kitchen cupboards that was questionable. She even managed to vacuum the carpet and rugs in the living room. Finally, with the water cool but still warm enough, Katherine placed her robe down on the floor and stood on top of it. It wasn't ideal, but the make-shift-bath was refreshing and inspiring. The clearer-than-before water that splashed on any surface in the kitchen seemingly left it much cleaner than it was before, leaving Katherine with the desire to clean the rest of the house. Unfortunately, that would have to wait since she had three pies to deliver.

Katherine wore her best smelling frock: a mostly blue dress with a bold white stripe running around the base of her neck, down the font, and around the bottom hem. She paired it with full-length, white stockings and her usual white shoes. Her hair wasn't done in its usual Bubble-Flip but was instead worn in a tight French-Twist. The makeup simple and of course, she fitted her mask to her face, which was becoming increasingly annoying. Dressed and ready to head out, Katherine returned to the kitchen and gently wrapped each pie in a clean but stale smelling linen cloth and packed them into a basket she had found in one of the cupboards.

The stark contrast of Maidenholm Off-Joy compared to On-Joy was still unsettling, but with a deep breath, she ignored the differences around her and made a beeline for the Chemist. Mr. Adams seemed unusually busy today—too busy to chat—but she attributed that to the promotional sale he was hosting and so, she gave him the first pie within the basket and with another heartfelt thank you from Stewart, she was off to her second destination. If asked, Katherine would say she didn't know what possessed her to live up to her promise to Constable Collinson and she surely couldn't tell anyone why she had decided to bring a _second_ currant pie. Deep down—and she would never admit this to anyone—Katherine knew that she wanted to be in their good graces and what better way to do so than with food?

The walk to the Constabulary felt long, but was especially enjoyable due to the mild weather they were having. The temperature was very pleasant with light cloud coverage and a gentle breeze that on any other day, would have thoroughly relaxed her. Seeing the Constabulary from a distance, Katherine couldn't help but reconsider her motives. The massive stone building looked anything but friendly. The closer she got to the building, the more she began to think it—along with other government buildings—looked entirely out of place in Hamlyn Village. If the intention of the design was to intimidate, then the architect should feel proud! The mere size and cold appearance brought butterflies to her stomach, but she had come this far and felt that she couldn't turn back.

Katherine's feet felt heavy as she walked along the circular road to the southern entrance of the building. Her hands began trembling as she climbed the first set of stone steps and as she reached the second set, Katherine realized that she had been holding her breath. She ignored the man reading the local paper on the bench to her left, steadied her breathing, and murmured, “Here goes nothing.”

As soon as the doors in front of her slid open and she entered, the two bickering bobbies behind the glassed in office fell silent. They stared at her with their exaggerated smiles and piercing eyes and for a moment, Katherine considered telling them that she had made a terrible mistake and then she would leave and never have to return again. Instead, Katherine awkwardly lifted the basket with her shoulder as if they'd know what it was and whimpered out a frail, “Hello!”

“Lovely day for it!”

She stood there, silent and terrified.

They continued staring at her, waiting to hear the reason she was there.

Katherine glanced to her right and found a very stylish lady looking anything but happy. She tapped her foot irritably and hmphed once their eyes met. Not wanting to be a bother, Katherine cleared her throat and slowly approached the glass that separated them. “Look,” she said so softly that the nearest constable leaned in to hear her better, “I know you boys work hard at helping all of us and so,” she pulled the basket from her shoulder and held it up for them to see, “I baked you lot some pies.”

The obviously suspicious and impatient tone between the constables immediately shifted into something else entirely. The two men made unintelligible sounds as they both raced for the door, shoving and pulling at each other to open it, somehow slamming it shut in the process of trying to get out. Once the ridiculous attempt passed, the two gave each other a look and marched over to her in a manner that would have made her laugh if she wasn't terrified out of her mind.

“Pies, you say?” asked the one on the left. A disapproving sound erupted from the lady behind her, but it appeared that neither of the men cared.

Doing her best to remain calm, Katherine balanced the handle of the basket on her wrist as she uncovered the pies. “Yes. I was given some currants from a friend and a Constable Collinson had helped me bring them and some groceries home and it got me thinking that you boys aren't thanked nearly enough for the work you do. I understand if they're not that good but...it's my way of saying thank you.” She expected the men to be even more suspicious, perhaps even irritated with her for bothering them with such untrustworthy confections. Would they throw them out? Would they be able to tell she was off of her Joy and then they'd throw her out into the Garden District? What would Oswald think?!

None of those fears mattered because the closest constable reached into the basket and grabbed the pie up, examining it as if it were a thing of beauty. “Collinson, eh? Yeah, he's working in the back.” The tone of his voice sounded...dreamy?

“I hope they're pleasant enough to eat...and do let Constable Collinson know that I fulfilled my promise to him. And! I hope there's enough for everyone to share...quite frankly, I'm not sure how many of you there are.”

The other constable let out a spine-chilling laugh and snatched up the second pie. “This is the _nicest_ thing anyone's ever done for us!”

“Yeah! Not many people show us appreciation!”

“Yeah,” the constable on the right made a not so subtle gesture to the irritated woman and took a step closer to Katherine. “Tell you what, follow us!” He firmly cupped her elbow in his hand and directed her to turn around while shooting the other woman a somehow even more menacing glare. Unable to escape, Katherine thought about her decision to come here and decided on another thing: she was stupid.

After all, who else would walk into such a dangerous place while off their Joy? She took a deep breath and continued smiling as the three of them silently walked further into the Constabulary. The constables brought her to a room that smelled heavily of tobacco and stale coffee. The canteen was split in half with the left part consisting of an old, dirty rug that sat between battered couches and patched up chairs. An old television sat silent at the center of the furniture's focus. The right half was home to mismatched chairs and tables that sat anywhere from four to six people. It was also home to a small kitchen equipped with a fridge and stove. The cabinets that lined the walls on that half of the room didn't have a single door that was fully attached or aligned. Off-duty bobbies sat around, either drinking coffee, reading papers, or just sitting there. She couldn't figure out which was more annoying, the radio in the corner of the room that was mostly static or the buzzing of the lights above them.

A few of the men noticed the trio but the bobby to her right clearing his throat caught the attention of those unaware. “What's your name again?” he asked softly.

“Katherine...Katherine Pritchard.”

He turned away from her and balanced on his gloved hand, he held the pie up for everyone to see. “Mrs. Pritchard here wanted to show her appreciation for us by baking us these pies!”

“Pies?!” One of them asked, then let out a chuckle. “No one's ever baked us pies!”

“You _do_ plan on sharing that, right?!”

The constable that had been to her left was approaching the small kitchen area and the others were quick to join him. “Thank you!” her escort finally released her and dashed off to join the small mob that was forming.

“Oh, heavens, that is _delicious_!”

“You could have grabbed a plate or a fork, you oaf!”

“I didn't cut that for you! You're lucky I didn't take a finger off!”

Katherine smiled and rose up onto her tiptoes in an attempt to find the bobby that had helped her. It was of no use, since the only thing she could see was a swarm of men in navy blue suits. Hearing their squabble over the pies made her feel something deep within her heart. Joy may have felt absolutely wonderful, but this? Joy couldn't replicate such a sincere feeling of...well, joy. She grabbed the basket's handle with both hands and turned around with the full intention of leaving the men to their dessert, but as she took a few steps forward, she heard, “Oi! Where do you think you're going?!”

Her heart jumped into her throat as she turned around. All of the men in the room, adorned with their bizarre smiles and a slice of pie, were looking at her. For a split second, she thought she could see something on their faces besides manic happiness, but she couldn't quite put her thumb on it.

“Come have a piece with us!” one of them shouted. The rest of the men cheered loudly as another fetched a piece and joined his colleagues.

Blushing behind her mask, Katherine shyly walked over to the table. “I have a whole pie at home with my name on it. Really, you chaps go ahead and enjoy it. I'll have a seat.” The last constable to grab a piece of pie pulled a chair out for Katherine and with a sincere smile, she thanked him and sat on the not-so-comfortable chair.

The constables were eager to tell her how much their enjoyed their treat, how much they appreciated her appreciation. They were like puppies that just couldn't get enough of her attention. She didn't know how it happened, but each of them starting showing off their talents to thank her. Three of them were _actually_ good at tap dancing and another could balance plates on sticks that he held in his hands and mouth, all while the plates were spinning! A small ruckus broke out between two of them, but it was quickly settled by a new bobby walking into the room. He, too, was extremely delighted by the gift.

It was somewhere after a musical number that Katherine began to realize how similar they all looked and acted. She wouldn't be able to point out the two she initially spoke with if she were paid to do so. The men varied every so slightly, in their height or build and of course, their voices. The lightest hair color in the room besides her own was one bobby with dirty blond hair that could probably even be called light brown. One of the tap dancers had been darker in skin color, but unless she really looked, she wouldn't be able to tell these men apart, especially if the was under the influence of Joy.

“Oh, my! Look at the time!” she called out as three of them decided they should pick a Nick Lightbearer song to sing together. “I have a long walk ahead of me and if I intend to get home by curfew, I ought to get going.”

Several groans of protest erupted from the small crowd as she stood up and gathered her basket. All of the men stood up at once, startling her just a bit but it was clear she hid it well. “Thank you, ma'am!”

“Thank you!”

“Yes. Thank you!”

“Model citizen, you are!”

Katherine was so very grateful when none of them accompanied her as she walked toward the exit of the room. They just stood there, clapping and thanking her and as she reached the door, she turned and waved, “Bye!”

As soon as she shut the door behind her, Katherine's pulse began to race. Her mouth suddenly felt dry and her stomach groaned, but was it from hunger or her nerves? The urgency to leave this place and return to the safety of her home hit her all at once. It was almost impossible to keep herself from running out of the building, to keep her scream of utter anxiety trapped behind a smile. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes as she retraced her steps through the building. She passed the irritable woman on the way out and only just noticed a new person in the room as she walked out of the sliding doors.

Despite all of her efforts, a shudder ran through her entire body. Her anxiety didn't ebb as she steadied her breathing and made her way down the stone steps to the road. Was Collinson even in that room? She didn't have time to think about it! With a glance at her wristwatch, Katherine groaned as she was reminded that it didn't keep track of time anymore. Even without a watch, she knew she likely couldn't get home by curfew if she walked a “normal” pace. What was she going to do?

Just as she anxiety seemed to peak, she heard the distinct sound of boots on concrete approaching her. Katherine looked over her shoulder to discover one of the bobbies standing there. “I thought I might escort Madam back to her home...in case Madam should run late or run into Foggy Jack.”

Though she wanted to be as far away as possible from anyone wearing a badge, Katherine couldn't help but feel comforted at the idea of getting home without trouble. “I would like that very much.” He gave her a nod and with that wordless action, the two began walking in the direction of her home. After an awkward moment of exchanged glances, Katherine softly said, “I know this will sound silly, but...were you in the canteen with the others?”

His bark of laughter startled her enough that she stumbled, but he didn't seem to notice. “I guess these masks do make us look too much alike!”

“You all look different beneath those?” Katherine immediately regretted vomiting such a stupid question and tried to laugh it off. “Of course you all look different! I just...wasn't thinking. Your masks are part of the uniform.”

“Right. Very few of us customize our masks. I would say that for the majority of us—and as you put it—we do see it as part of the uniform, so why bother changing it?” He gave her a friendlier, less manic smile and it prompted her to smile a little broader at him.

“Another silly question, if you don't mind.” He continued looking at her, obviously waiting for her the question. Katherine felt even more sheepish than before, but the silence was far more uncomfortable than anything she could ask him. “How was the pie, really?”

“It was exquisite!” came the fast and surprised response. “I can't remember the last time I had anything like it!” Quickly, the constable looked away and his expression returned to normal. “It's not often we're shown such kindness.”

“Well then,” she also looked ahead of her, “I guess I'll just have to bring extra baked goods over when I have them.”

“That would be highly appreciated, Madam.”

“You can call me Katherine.” The words popped right out of her mouth as if someone had controlled her to do so. From the corner of her right eye, she could see him nod. “And what might I call you?” Katherine almost collided with a postbox as he came to an immediate stop. He said nothing as she stared at him, but after a moment—a moment that lasted too long—he pointed at the letters on his badge. As she stepped closer to view his name, he told her, “Millais, Mrs. Pritchard. Constable Millais.”

“Constable Millais,” she held her hand out. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

The constable glanced at her hand, his terrifying smile faltering for a moment. “A pleasure, Mrs. Pritchard.” He didn't shake her hand and instead, merely grasped it ever so gently. It felt polite and almost flirtatious, despite knowing that he was being anything but.

For the majority of the trek back, Katherine had tried her best to come up with any sot of conversation that wouldn't give her away, but to her dismay, she couldn't think of a single thing. Far too often, she would open her mouth to say something and then close it with a snap. She knew he noticed because each time she did, he looked at her eagerly, as if he also wanted to converse with her. But what did one talk about with a constable? The locals becoming Downers? The unusual thinness of their citizens? Or maybe the effects Joy had on one's mental health?

Silence—no matter how awkward—was the correct approach here.

As the evening sky darkened, the roads steadily became less congested. The street lights suddenly became brighter, casting off colorful waves of light that seemed to bring a sort of magic about the village. Even without Joy, Maidenholm was beautiful at night. When was the last time she was out so late? When was the last time she looked through her windows and enjoyed the beauty of her home? It was terrifying how Joy affected the mind. She couldn't really remember why she started taking Joy...or why she had. All she remembered was that officials pushed it on them. What were they so desperate to hide from all of their citizens? Katherine shuddered at the prospects.

“You won't be in any trouble as long as I am with you, Madam.”

The constable's voice grabbed her attention and she smiled at him, realizing that even on Joy, she would _still_ be afraid of this situation. “Didn't I tell you to call me by my name, Constable Millais?” She allowed her face to relax as much as her mask would allow it as she came to a stop at the end of the road. “This is my road.” The two of them stood there and silently, she hoped that he would bid her a good night and be on his way.

It was as if he read her thoughts or perhaps her body language because he told her, “I would really prefer escorting you to your doorstep.” The tone in his voice shifted with the slightest bit of...discomfort? Perhaps, suspicion? Katherine refused to give it anymore thought. She didn't have the luxury to wonder what was going on in that head of his.

“Righto,” came the cheery response. “Right this way!” She hooked her arm around his and continued with her relaxed, albeit slow place. They passed a few closed buildings, the postbox she used to place her letters in, her neighbor's house and finally, they arrived at her home. There was both relief and a little concern when she turned the door handle and found that it was unlocked. “Thank you, Constable Millais. I promise, the next time I bake something, I'll be sure to hunt you down.”

“And thank you, Mrs. Pritchard, for the pies and the company. Good night, Madam.”

“Good night,” she said, standing there at her door, expecting him to walk away. He, however, continued standing there, simply staring at her with that horrible expression. Katherine awkwardly stepped into the house and with one more look, she closed the door between then. As quietly as she could, Katherine locked and bolted the door, hoping he wouldn't hear. She pressed herself against the door, listening intently to hear those loud footsteps walk away form the house, but all she heard was her own heartbeat in her ears. A light burst through the cracks of the door and for a moment, she expected him to kick the door in, to drag her from the house!

From upstairs, Oswald's laughter shattered the tense silence and to her relief, she could hear the constable walking away. Tears filled her eyes as she stood at the front door. She dropped the basket onto the floor and yanked her mask off. How was she supposed to live her life this way?! The anxiety and fear were just _too_ much! Maybe things would be easier if she had someone to talk to, but she was alone in this journey. Oswald was useless. Hell, he hadn't noticed she wasn't home when he arrived! What would happen if she was forced to leave him? Oswald would most certainly forget about her. ...Maybe that would be for the best.

Wiping her face, Katherine slowly trudged up the stairs and to the bathroom, where she washed up and brushed her teeth. She ignored the warm sensation the tainted water gave her mouth and grinned as her worries were only relieved enough to make her sleepy. Oswald said nothing as she climbed into bed beside him and placed her mask on the nightstand. Oswald's laughter, nor Uncle Jack's evening broadcast could keep her awake.


End file.
